Review: Educating Rita (Ensemble Theatre)

ensembleVenue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), May 21 – Jun 28, 2015
Playwright: Willy Russell
Director: Mark Kilmurry
Cast: Catherine McGraffin, Mark Kilmurry
Image by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
Willy Russell’s Educating Rita makes a case for aspirations, but not in capitalistic terms or in the form of the all too common middle-class pipe dream. He talks about the importance of culture and choice in all our lives, and suggests that the greatest value of life resides in the active pursuit of self-betterment. The very act of finding greater meanings and knowledge, is the key to enriching one’s existence. The effectiveness of Russell’s narrative relies on the obstructions that we face, especially repressive forces in our surrounds that hold us back and prevalent apathetic attitudes of our communities. Frank is an alcoholic, who is all but resigned from hopes, dreams and ambitions. He has removed the clock from his office wall and hides it along with the secret bottles of booze that occupy the back of bookshelves, so that he can deny the fact that time is passing him by, while he drinks his days away. Through his education of Rita, we observe all that Frank has to offer the world, but he does not acknowledge his own talents, and lets himself flounder and descend towards oblivion.

Direction of the work by Mark Kilmurry is beautifully executed, and very moving. Both characters are engaging and solidly established, so that we feel an instant familiarity that helps us become quickly invested in their stories. Kilmurry has created an environment where both actors collaborate intimately with little ego in the way of storytelling, and what they present often resonates with extraordinary authenticity, and we relate to the play from very personal and deep perspectives. As a performer, Kilmurry is lively and multifarious. His work is vivid, with remarkable clarity in intention and expression, but his character evolution as Frank is insufficiently dramatic in latter scenes for tensions to sustain beyond the show’s very exciting first half. Catherine McGraffin is an effervescent Rita, with the right variety and amount of charisma to let her role translate powerfully and emotionally. Through her heartfelt approach to the material at hand, we are able to examine our own lives, and to think about the parallels between Rita’s experiences and the choices we have made for ourselves. McGraffin’s intuitive and unrestrained style of performance takes hold of our empathy at will, but Rita’s progression later in the piece becomes unnecessarily subdued, resulting in the play seeming to lose steam over time.

Rita’s thirst for knowledge and her eagerness to lift the veil on secrets of the big, wide world is an inspiration, and Frank’s tragedy is a cautionary tale perhaps, of the increasingly parochial ways we live. Interaction with culture requires broad minds, but affluent societies are complacent. We spend time and energy chasing pleasures, but neglect the more challenging and meaningful parts of life. As we make our communities more wealthy and stable, interesting ideas become dangerous and we shut them out. It is difficult to be progressive in 2015 Australia, where fear is becoming a virtue, and we become increasingly protective against enemies real and imagined. The theatre might be a safe and sometimes conservative space where risky thoughts are contained, but at least they (theatre and risky thoughts) are both still thriving, and patrons can always leave with some degree of choice as to the freedoms they will allow themselves.

www.ensemble.com.au

Review: The School For Scandal (New Theatre)

newtheatreVenue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), Apr 29 – May 30, 2015
Playwright: Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Director: David Burrowes
Cast: Tel Benjamin, Richard Cotter, Sasha Dyer, Peter Flett, Emma Harvie, Rhys Keir, Chantel Leseberg, Moreblessing Maturure, Lillian Silk, Marty O’Neill, Nick Rowe, Billie Scott, Eleanor Stankiewicz, Samantha Ward, Jacob Warner, Madeleine Withington
Photography © Matthias Engesser

Theatre review
Money makes the world go round, but it is also the root of all evil. No ordinary person is able to escape the claws of modern economy, and we all have to define our existences in, at least, partially monetary terms. The School For Scandal is about greed, and our ability to be blinded by wealth. Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s script is a wickedly funny one, and his outstanding wit has ensured that his story about deception and decadence is still well-regarded 238 years later.

Direction by David Burrowes is ambitious and visually striking, with a very contemporary rendering that draws inspiration from the nouveau riche of Australia’s more brazen social set. The work is wildly energetic, and comedy is always being created around the text, but less attention is paid on the nuances of the writing. The resultant work is flamboyant and amusing, but the actual story is often a secondary aside. Plot is sacrificed for effect, and while the experience is not always satisfying, there certainly is a lot that is remarkable in terms of the generous amount of creativity being featured. Isabella Andronos’ set and costume designs are mischievous and refreshing, adding to the Sydney theatre landscape an exciting aesthetic that is reflective of a particular generational and cultural segment. The representation of dominant social tribes is important in the understanding of our selves, and Andronos’ contribution is an acute study of the way things are, for some of us, in the absolute now.

All performances in the show are strong. The cast is committed to Burrowes’ vision of creating something extravagant, and to keep us entertained. Rhys Keir as Charles Surface is a quirky combination of sex appeal and clownish tomfoolery. The actor’s larger than life presence is determined to captivate, and his comedy is quite irresistible. Keir’s sharp instincts and confident timing make his joyful showmanship a real pleasure to witness, and his ability to manufacture chemistry with colleagues demonstrates a natural flair of someone born for the stage. Equally gifted is Madeleine Withington who plays Lady Teazle, a shrewd young lady with an impetuous, ditzy edge. Withington’s style feels unfettered, but there is an exacting focus to her manoeuvres that help provide a clarity to a plot that often gets lost in the incessant pandemonium. There is noteworthy work by two of the show’s smallest roles, played by Emma Harvie and Moreblessing Maturure, but it must be said that there is more than a little discomfort in watching the only actors who are not of Caucasian appearance, take on the parts of servants.

Theatre can do many things, but an audience will always concentrate on story if one exists, and treat other elements as subordinate. This production of The School For Scandal has a fierce experimental spirit that resides in every corner, but although undeniably passionate in approach, much of the effort does not translate as anything more than embellishment. Sheridan’s work is solid, and it resists obfuscation. There is much to admire in the show, but what we crave is something deeper and more substantial, something quite the opposite of surface.

www.newtheatre.org.au

Review: Rhymes With Silence (Improvising Change)

rhymeswithviolenceVenue: 107 Projects (Redfern NSW), May 16 – 24, 2015
Playwrights: Alex Broun, Jane Cafarella, Joy Roberts, Kate Rotherham, Loueen Winters, Natalie Banach, Pete Malicki, Suzy Wilds, Vee Malnar
Directors: Chrissy deSilva, Garreth Cruikshank, Glen Pead, Glenn Groves, Kaye Lopez, Lisa Eismen, Margaret Barnaby, Natasha McDonald, Uma Kali Shakti, Vee Malnar, Wayne Mitchell
Cast: Alex Gercsov, Ali Aitken, Angela Gibson, Bendeguz Daniel Devenyi-Botos, Debbie Tilley, Dede Attipoe, Elisa Cristallo, Eliza St John, Garreth Cruickshank, James Belfrage, Joanna Kedziora, Karina Bracken, Katherine Richardson, Katrina Papadopoulos, Kerrie Roberts, Lisa Hanssens, Liz Harper, Liz Hovey, Lynda Leavers, Matt Cowey, Melissa Day, Rebecca Van-Hek, Ros Richards, Sarah North, Tommy Deckard, Veena Sudarshan
Image by John Tsioulos

Theatre review
The programme comprises 13 short plays, unified by the theme of domestic violence against women and girls. The event aims to bring attention to a problem that struggles to find articulation, due to the unthinkable horror of being attacked within the most intimate of relationships. The perpetrators we hear about in Rhymes With Silence are husbands, lovers, fathers. Men who are meant to be our protectors have failed to provide the shield from harm, and their betrayal of trust is of the most severe and devastating kind. Without a doubt, the stories being shared here are dark and often harrowing. There is certainly no shortage of gravitas in spite of the casual presentation style, which simply moves from one basic staging to another with minimal fuss.

Some of the pieces can feel too obvious in their approach, and there is a repetitiveness to the proceedings that makes the two-and-a-half hours slightly challenging, but the earnest and direct way the artists deal with their difficult subject matter is a refreshing experience. The level of honesty we encounter is intimidating, but we are compelled to learn more. The scenarios are shocking but never unbelievable. Joy Roberts’ Regret is one of the few opportunities to hear from a male character, and the revelations of a wolf in sheep’s clothing is enlightening and exasperating. Also intriguing is Good Men Do Bad Things by Suzy Wilds, which features two mothers-in-law in dialogue after the son is sent to prison for killing the other’s daughter. The extraordinary context is fertile ground for explosive interchanges, and the script explores the possibilities beautifully. All the complex emotions are authentic and we relate effortlessly to every plea and confrontation. More than other stories in the collection, this work holds the greatest promise for a very interesting full length iteration.

The inordinately large number of cast members is evidence of the growing concern we have for the issue at hand. Some of the performances might be of an amateur level, but all are committed and serious in attitude. More polished actors include Karina Bracken, who shines in Whirlpools by Alex Broun. Bracken’s style is still but powerful, and her quiet confidence allows us to connect with the works she puts into her character’s thought processes. The fluidity in her interpretation provides a humanity that feels familiar and genuine. Also impressive is Melissa Day in Tara Weldon and Vee Malnar’s I Just Want My Little Family, whose energetic depiction of the single, low-income mother of an infant is as heartbreaking as it is threatening. The actor has a precision that is entertaining to watch, and a unique earthiness that gives her play a strong and individual flavour.

Theatre gives voice to the silent, and the formation of narratives allows us not only to share our experiences, but also works as a vehicle for individual catharsis. The healing process for the most gravely damaged is one that lasts a lifetime, and the artistic journey is also one with no end. The most enduring work comes from a place of truth, and unpacking emotional injuries requires an interrogation into the human condition that has no tolerance for pretence or triviality. There is nothing good that can come out of domestic violence, but many of the worst things that occur can be transposed into a new creativity, so that life can be be reconsolidated along with the art forms being built.

www.improvisingchange.com/

Review: Dead Time (Lace Balloon)

laceballoon1Venue: 107 Projects (Redfern NSW), May 20 – 29, 2015
Playwright: Fleur Beaupert
Director: Fleur Beaupert
Cast: Paul Armstrong, Lara Lightfoot, Abi Rayment, Robert Rhode, Melissa Kathryn Rose, Eleni Schumacher, Barton Williams
Image by Phyllis Wong

Theatre review
Stories about the underdog hold a tenacious appeal. Fleur Beaupert’s Dead Time is based on the events surrounding Dr Mohamed Haneef’s arrest and subsequent release in 2007, at a time when the Australian government was placing threats of terrorism front and centre in the national consciousness. The post-9/11 era has allowed public life (including politics and media) to encroach upon individual liberties in the name of vigilance, and our collective paranoia is used to justify racist persecutions in place of sound legal processes. The script is partly verbatim, and it makes a conscious effort to depict events with accuracy. Consequently, moments of heightened drama are few, even though tension is effectively manufactured with relative consistency. Haneef’s ordeal is rightly portrayed as institutionalised exploitation, and the play’s purpose is to give voice to the oppressed. In the case of contemporary Australia, people of the Muslim faith are especially relevant to this discussion. Beaupert’s work as writer and director is not always elegant, but what she has created, is a compelling and stirring statement against our gradually increasing acceptance of injustice in the name of national security. It is a touchy subject, and the show elicits our emotional involvement effortlessly, and for many, its protestations are representative of how we feel about the world today, and the passion on display is reflective of our attitudes about the themes at hand.

Performances are uneven, but leading man Robert Rhode is entirely captivating. The actor’s presence and instincts are a real pleasure to witness, and his easy confidence allows us to empathise with his character at every point of his journey. His interpretation of innocence is authentic, and he builds just enough complexity into Haneef’s victimisation so that we identify intimately with his predicament and his fears. The production is a showcase for Rhode’s talent, which seems scarcely trained, but in its rawness, we observe a natural flair that emanates, and recognise in it, a fragility that makes the cruel mistreatment suffered by Haneef all the more upsetting.

Dead Time is not a polished work, but the clarity and importance of its message makes it a standout in a landscape of bourgeois concerns that characterises our lucky country. The land of the fair go has become delusional in its self identity, refusing to come to grips with its evolution into a Western power that has little capacity for compassion. We insist on seeing ourselves as earthy, sincere and wholesome. We think us better than our corrupt siblings of United States and Europe, but in fact our dealings in regional issues are shameful. Our eagerness to vilify, intimidate and abuse those in need is an extension of the way we have maltreated Aboriginal communities since 1788. Australia’s European history refuses to learn from its own mistakes, and we are now in the middle of a new cycle of violence that is heading towards a repeat performance of its very worst.

laceballoon.wordpress.com

Review: (Extra)ordinary, (Un)usual Episode III (The Monologue Project)

themonologueprojectVenue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), May 13 – 27, 2015
Playwright: Pete Malicki
Director: Pete Malicki
Cast: Debbie Neilson, Glenn Wanstall, Luke Reeves, Matt Friedman, Raechel Carlsen, Rosemary Ghazi, Tiffany Hoy, Yannick Lawry, Miss Suzie Q

Theatre review
The production comprises eight monologues, all written and directed by Pete Malicki. His writing is mainly concerned with the ordinariness of Australian lives, but he delves into fantastical inventions on occasion, to create stories that aim to entertain and amuse. Malicki finds the small and mundane parts of existence and places them in the spotlight. His characters all seem neurotic, as their solitude allows them to reveal their deepest idiosyncrasies. The programme is a light-hearted one, with little room for gloom or poignancy, but it does offer social observations through sarcastic jabs and slapstick comedy.

Malicki’s direction is not particularly versatile, but he ensures that each segment is energetic and vibrantly quirky. He has a knack for extracting confident and quite wild performances from his cast, all of whom appear to bubble with excitement when placed centre stage. Glenn Wanstall’s performance in That Time Harold Borgenstein Went Speed Dating And Got Taken Over By All Of The Greek Gods, is impressively athletic and irresistibly funny. The actor’s intuition is remarkably precise, and the level of conviction he displays is entirely captivating. The piece is somewhat pointless, but it serves as a secure platform for Wanstall to present some of the most outrageous and flamboyant spectacles one is likely to encounter.

Artists often need boundaries to instigate the creative flow, and in Malicki’s case, the short monologue format is a framework that he is clearly very comfortable in. His ability to find tension and humour within his preferred structure is well-honed, but like the faces in his cast, greater diversity is required. Presenting eight works together is an appealing idea, and as much as it is a showcase of one’s strengths, it is able also to unwittingly expose one’s weaknesses. Malicki may not speak universally, but he is certainly an expert in his chosen field.

www.monologues.com.au

Review: Decay (Eclective Productions)

eclectiveVenue: Old 505 Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), May 19 – 24, 2015
Playwright: Melissa Lee Speyer
Director: Rachel Chant
Cast: Joel Horwood, Rosie Lourde
Image by Pamela Amores

Theatre review
The act of storytelling can sometimes be more interesting than the actual content being shared. This is an important feature of theatrical experiences, because original stories are hard to come by, but finding new ways to relay old tales is what keeps us challenged and excited. Melissa Lee Speye’s Decay experiments with timelines and plot structures, using very little words, to create a work that depicts the human condition in a truthful but unusual light. The context involves death and disaster, but the production is not particularly moving. Instead, it connects with our curiosity and intellect for a seventy-minute journey that is more cerebral than visceral. It interacts with us by prompting a series of questions that may be about the characters on stage, but mostly, of the world in general.

Centre stage is Joel Horwood, who takes on the challenge of portraying extreme emotions but without the indulgence of a conventional narrative flow. The actor manufactures tension well, and it is clear to see that he invests heavily into the role’s emotional arc. Horwood is dynamic and focused, but the mysterious nature of the play prevents us from getting too caught up with the protagonist in all his drama. Direction by Rachel Chant gives the production a tautness in pace and atmosphere, and her commitment to an unconventional and sometimes surreal theatrical form is refreshing and quite courageous. Nate Edmondson’s sound design is cleverly imagined, and beautifully realised. Without many spoken lines to occupy our minds with, Edmondson’s contribution takes on greater importance than usual. More than any other element of the show, it is the sound that provides us with the information required to help make sense of the intriguing chaos that unfolds.

Toying with conventions is always risky, and in the case of Decay, it ticks many boxes but leaves us cold. It does not entertain sufficiently, but it satisfies in other ways. With a defined artistic vision, we are impressed by the way it bends rules and negotiates boundaries. There is good work to be admired herein, and like most daring ventures, it will unsettle a little, and at times, it might even disappoint, but we can be certain that what is served is not rehashed rubbish rolled in glitter or painting by numbers, which is very comforting indeed.

www.facebook.com/EclectiveProductions

Review: The House Of Ramon Iglesia (Mophead Productions / Red Line Productions)

mopheadVenue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), May 12 – Jun 6, 2015
Playwright: José Rivera
Director: Anthony Skuse
Cast: Christian Charisiou, Deborah Galanos, Nicholas Papademetriou, Ronny Jon Paul Mouawad, Stephen Multari, Eloise Snape, David Soncin
Image by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
No man is an island. We need to feel a sense of belonging, not only with other people, but also with places. José Rivera’s The House Of Ramon Iglesia investigates the significance of ancestry and roots, through the experience of Puerto Rican migrants in 1980 New York. The Iglesia family is dislocated in a space between San Juan and Holbrook, and its two generations illustrate the complexity of human attachment to a sense of country and home. In our modern times, populations are in constant flux, and the arbitrariness of borders is negotiated to allow for opportunities and interested parties to collide. The matter of nationalities is no longer a straightforward concept for many, and Rivera’s work questions its importance and indeed, its relevance to individual lives.

Anthony Skuse’s direction of the piece is a passionate rendering that delivers an engaging and energetic theatre, but our empathy for its characters only arrives several scenes after it begins. Early sequences feel distant, perhaps a result of their estranged temporal and geographic contexts. Its themes take time to connect, and even though many of its ideas can be universal, we only recognise them after some investment of imagination and patience, but when the show shifts into a gear of high drama, the play becomes a dynamic one, with performances that impress with emotional depth, and a compelling cast chemistry that creates an extraordinarily believable family unit.

When actors are focused and psychologically accurate, we surrender our trust and follow their journeys without hesitation. Deborah Galanos’ intensity gives her Dolores an admirable strength and although quite flamboyant in her approach, we do not question the authenticity of what is being presented. The melodrama Galanos introduces is delightfully entertaining, and allows the actor to expand her characterisation beyond the scripted lines, so that who we meet is greater than an archetypal maternal figure. In the smaller role of Charlie is David Soncin, whose memorable performance is coloured with a natural exuberance and an effortless magnetism. He plays his role with clear and simple intentions, but always discovers powerful subtleties that add surprising dimension to his work. Stephen Multari’s conviction and emotional sonority is a highlight in many scenes of confrontation and feuding. Javier’s inner world is central to the effectiveness of the play, and Multari’s depiction of it is beautifully resonant. The actor’s vigour and earnestness however, can seem out of place in the show’s more tranquil moments, and opportunities are missed that could allow the character to be more endearing, so that we care more about the lead and all the people surrounding him.

When we think of identity, we inevitably go to beliefs about bloodlines and origin. Place is important, but how we manufacture meaning between lived experience and geography is idiosyncratic and personal, yet collectivism is always a part of the discussion. We talk of nations of peoples, and we talk of partners and kins. Rivera’s story is about that conundrum, not just of how we use identity labels, but also how these labels intersect between friends and family. Each person can have an intimate and private understanding of their own space in the big scheme of things, but arbitration will always exist, even for the strongest.

www.oldfitztheatre.com | www.mophead.com.au

Review: Storm Boy (Barking Gecko / Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Apr 24 – May 17, 2015
Playwright: Tom Holloway (based on the book by Colin Thiele)
Director: John Sheedy
Cast: Jimi Bani, Julian Garner, Kai Lewins, Rory Potter, Phil Dean Walford, Anthony Mayor
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Christians believe that “Man is more valuable to God than animals,” and “men were created in the image of God”. Indeed, humankind often thinks of itself as separate from nature, and superior to it. We then give ourselves permission to devour and ravage the planet as though a commodity at our disposal, without its own rights and destinies. Colin Thiele’s book Storm Boy was published in 1964, and in 1976, its film version was released. Theatre productions are staged regularly to introduce new generations of children to the story, and its lessons, not only of environment conservation, but also of death, grief, and for Australian audiences, the relationship between Aboriginal and European cultures on our land.

John Sheedy’s direction of the piece is intelligent, creative and tender. It is a soulful rendition of an innocent tale that can touch the hardest of hearts. The expert level of stagecraft being incorporated is sophisticated and dynamic, with its puppetry elements a breathtaking stand out. Phil Dean Walford and Anthony Mayor are dancers who provide an indigenous omnipresence to the show, while simultaneously, and marvellously, operating the pelicans that share centre stage with its protagonist. Peter Wilson is Puppetry Director, and along with Michael Scott-Mitchell who is designer for set, costumes and the puppets, their artful vision is successfully translated to convey Thiele’s magical tale with great poignancy. Lighting Designer Damien Cooper and Sound Designer Kingsley Reeve both contribute extraordinarily inventive work that help form a fantastical experience that is truly amazing.

The lead role of Storm Boy is played by Rory Potter who impresses with an almighty focus and a deep understanding of his character’s journey. We see him completely absorbed, and believe unreservedly in all that he portrays. His father Tom is performed with subtle complexity by Julian Garner, an efficient and restrained actor who manages to reveal a world of emotion with a beautifully minimal approach. Jimi Bani is the boy’s mentor and friend, Fingerbone, an animated and passionate personality manifested by Bani’s excellent use of gesture and movement. Chemistry between the cast is natural, strong and joyful. Together, their work is consistently engaging, in a show that speaks intimately to our humanity and remarkable in its capacity to move us. Theatre can do many things, but one of its greatest accomplishments is to remind us of the enormity and largesse of the universe, beyond our selfish daily concerns. Life is meaningless when we refuse to look at the big picture, and that is exactly what Storm Boy wants us to see.

www.barkinggecko.com.auwww.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Antigone (Théâtre Excentrique)

theatreexcentriqueVenue: PACT Theatre (Erskineville NSW), Apr 23 – May 2, 2015
Playwright: Jean Anouilh (translated by Kris Shalvey and Anna Jahjah)
Director: Anna Jahjah
Cast: Roslyn Blake, Kate Fraser, Kirsty Jordan, Aurora Kinsella, Karl Kinsella, Philippe Klaus, Neil Modra, Gerry Sont, Ellen Williams, and students from Blacktown Girls High

Theatre review
The word “wilful” is usually applied to the young, along with connotations of idealism and immaturity. We think of them as “not knowing any better” to explain away their inconvenient behaviour. The lead character in Jean Anouilh’s Antigone is all of the above, but she is also virtuous. Like us, her world is one that has too many things gone awry, yet everyone is required to stick to its rules in order that an illusory sense of order can be preserved. Anarchic activity is often classed criminal, regardless of intentions good, bad or ugly. This twenty year-old woman knows the dire consequences that await but she is fearless, and proceeds to do what she believes to be right. Anouilh’s version of the Greek tragedy is passionate, philosophical and political. It is a stirring piece of writing that provides inspiration for the way we make choices, and the way we create theatre. Its incorporation of a chorus and narrator allows for ideas to be articulated directly, while sequences of realism (beautifully preserved in this English language translation by Kris Shalvey and Anna Jahjah) puts us in scenarios that feel familiar in spite of their contextual distance.

Direction of the piece by Jahjah is energetic and suitably expressive. The use of a chorus comprising only of young girls, puts focus on the dimension of gender in the play’s arguments. All dressed in white, their innocence and purity of spirit are the physical embodiment of the text’s key motifs. Use of space is inventive and thoughtful. Characters are positioned freely within the dynamically designed space, and their movements contribute to the depiction of emotional states and of narratives unfolding. Jahjah’s work may not always be affecting, but her production is a surprisingly entertaining one.

Ellen Williams is impressive as our heroine, with a deeply authentic fury and righteousness that gives the show its poignant foundations. We share Antigone’s beliefs, and are thrilled to see her fighting with conviction and wild abandon. Williams shows glimpses of tenderness and sadness that helps us connect with her role’s humanity, but these do not surface often enough. The cast works well to keep us amused and engaged, but many of the key roles are not explored with enough complexity and nuance. Creon is Antigone’s uncle and adversary, whose strong oppositional points of view raise the stakes and add to the drama, but Neil Modra’s work, while exuberant and charmingly idiosyncratic, does not convey his character’s beliefs with sufficient clarity. The central struggle of the show then becomes unbalanced and disappointingly, weakened.

There are many things we want for our children, but courage is not always at the top of lists. We are afraid of what might result, and prefer instead for them to grow up cautious, sensible and safe. It is our responsibility after all, to be their shelter from harm. In Antigone, honour comes at a price, although glory is nowhere to be found. In a tragedy where nobody wins, the moral of the story can be ambiguous. The value of a life is usually determined by how well we live it, and how long we are able to experience it. Only in rare cases are we able to judge a life by the legacy it leaves behind.

www.theatrexcentrique.com

Review: Vice (Emu Productions)

emuproductionsVenue: King Street Theatre (Newtown NSW), Apr 21 – May 9, 2015
Playwright: Melvyn Morrow
Director: Elaine Hudson
Cast: Margi De Ferranti, Jonathan Deves, Roger Gimblett, Christopher Hamilton, Jess Loudon, Benjamin McCann

Theatre review
Writing a play about hot topics of the day is a delicate operation. Reiterating dominant schools of thought without adding new perspectives will make the work seem lightweight and redundant, but proffering alternative ideas can be dangerous, especially when the issue is a sensitive one. Melvyn Morrow’s Vice joins the very contemporary discussion on the sexual assault of children by authority figures in religious institutions. We meet Jasper, a manipulative eighteen year-old who uses his burgeoning sexuality as currency, and the guardians at his affluent high school who exploit their custodial positions over students in their care. The illusion of consent that exists between people in hierarchical organisations become further complicated by the issue of age. Society acknowledges a certain legal age where people become adults, but within the paradigm of school and family, we believe in a sacred sense of protection that must prevail for all our daughters and sons. Morrow writes with an ambiguity that inspires thought, and although unlikely to change anyone’s moral position, his story opens up points in a hackneyed argument that may have been previously overlooked. The play’s structure is engaging and tight, with character transformations and edgy dialogue that provide drama and intellectual stimulation.

Direction by Elaine Hudson is punchy and passionate, and although personalities are not always convincing, their narratives are conveyed with enough clarity so that the plot retains its complexities without losing too much coherence. Morrow’s script is often witty, but comedy is not handled well in the production. The cast is under-rehearsed with an inordinate frequency of actors tripping over lines, and several key roles are approached with insufficient depth, resulting in emotions that lack accuracy. The play is situated in modern day Sydney, but its speech emulates an artificial upper class affectation that seems to have been awkwardly derived from mid twentieth century English film and television, that can occasionally cause a troubling dislocation of space and time. On a brighter note, all performances are energetic, with an enjoyable urgency that holds our attention. Playing Olivia Fox is Jess Loudon who attacks with conviction and a charming boldness. Her part is simpler than the other darker characters, but Loudon brings nuance and texture to create a presence on stage that the audience can relate to.

Societal progression involves the dismantlement of old organisations that have proven themselves contrary to democratic ideologies. The pervasiveness and influence of religion in our lives run thorough and broad. Many profit from archaic power structures, and are determined to sustain them by deceptive and cowardly means. The rich and powerful choose a status quo that requires poverty and powerlessness to exist, so resistance and change can only occur at snail place (if at all). Communities are divided and conquered by a 1% of humanity, that insist we continue to participate, knowingly and unconsciously, in all the rituals of daily life that perpetuate our own oppression, in ignorance and isolation. Only when we find an appetite for destruction big enough and brave enough, that revolution can happen. There is a gentle flame in Vice that can inspire, and perhaps provide a spark that can lead to a solution for these disturbing circumstances that we should all be very concerned about.

www.kingstreettheatre.com.au